


Forged

by exbex



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen, Post-Episode: s04e22 Sweet Revenge, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 23:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11747283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: prompt: 400 words, use 4 and/or 40 and/or 400  http://me-and-thee-100.livejournal.com/





	Forged

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: 400 words, use 4 and/or 40 and/or 400 http://me-and-thee-100.livejournal.com/

Forty hours. That’s the length of Starsky’s coma, give or take. It’s been years since Hutch has paged through a Bible, but the symbolism of the number isn’t lost on him.

He has no illusions about himself, knows where the parallels begin and end. The devil’s goading, the way it falls from his lips, gleams in his eyes. Temptation, how easy it would seem to do what’s natural instead of what’s right. A self-imposed solitude, to wander in a barren desert, and an endless storm tossing him on the waves, leaving him flailing his arms and gasping for breath.

He’s always been aware of the stakes, even in the days of the Academy, when he was younger and more idealistic. In his hand, tucked against his side, he’s held the reminder that he has power to destroy, the knowledge punctuated every single time he’s pressed his finger to the trigger. Once, he’d thought of destruction as an active process. Now, he knows that destruction is as much a result of stepping aside, of laying down and letting things take their course.

In the hospital bed lays the reminder that he has the power to protect, the knowledge punctuated every time Starsky’s eyes open and follow him, his gaze steady, an assurance that Hutch isn’t sure that he’s earned, but one that he’s vowed to never betray. 

He doesn’t ask the question that’s digging its nails into his consciousness until Starsky’s wounds have healed and he’s regained his strength, until he ends most days without pain and weariness showing themselves on his face. 

“Do you remember Starsky? The day in the parking garage? Do you remember anything?” His voice nearly cracks, and he feels out of breath.

Starsky’s tongue darts between his lips, his eyebrows furrow, and he takes a long pull on his beer before answering. “I don’t.” He waits, trailing a thumb through the condensation on his glass.

“I shouted for you to get down. But you drew your gun.” Hutch stops, then starts again. “I hit the ground.”

“You did the right thing Hutch.” Starsky is as sure as Hutch has ever heard him. He reaches his hand across the table. “You got him. We made it partner.”

It’s a long moment before Hutch reaches back for it. He has questions that he knows may never have answers, but the uncertainty doesn’t threaten to crush him any longer.


End file.
